


Dowager Princess

by LadyVictoriaBlackfyre



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Dowager Princess Lyanna, Elia still dies, F/M, Joffery is still an asshole, Jon Snow is Not Called Aegon, Jon Snow is called Maekar Targaryen, King Jon Snow, Lyanna Stark Lives, Lyanna and Rhaegar married, Lyanna is cunning, Prophecy, Queen Daenerys Targaryen, R Plus L Equals J, Rhaegar still dies, Rhaenys Targaryen Lives, Starks are still major characters, The Long Night, The Prince That Was Promised, song of ice and fire
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-21
Updated: 2018-10-23
Packaged: 2019-08-05 08:20:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,117
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16364261
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyVictoriaBlackfyre/pseuds/LadyVictoriaBlackfyre
Summary: AU. Lyanna Stark survives giving birth to her son, Maekar Targaryen, and asks Ned to tell everyone that she died as she, her son and Princess Rhaenys (whom Elia entrusted in her care to keep her safe) flee to Essos. There, she finds Viserys and Daenerys and plot to place her son back upon his rightful throne.





	1. Maekar the Heir

**Author's Note:**

> Based off the AU challenge - what if Lyanna Stark lives?
> 
> Also there have been some wild accusations of me stealing plot ideas from another book, which are completely unfounded as I had never read that book before it was brought to my attention. The similarities are: a child is exiled to Braavos under the care of his mother and that's where it stops. I could name many, many, many fics which have the characters going to Braavos because that's where the Targaryens were allegedly taken (though most people think it was more likely for it to have been a figment of Dany's imagination due to the lack of trees, but I moved around that in this). Also, this is such a large sight of people getting ideas from the same story so there are bound to be one or two similarities between near every book.
> 
> I hope you enjoy this book :)

Chapter 1 – Maekar the Heir

Lyanna Stark brushed her hand softly across a brown leather book, closing her eyes to the feel of it under her fingers. It was Rhaegar’s book, and now he was gone; leaving her and her child alone, bar the Kingsguard, in the Tower of Joy far up the Dornish Mountains.

All of this, the war, the deaths, the destruction of the Targaryens and Starks alike had all began with them and their selfishness. She had met him, the silver-gold haired, indigo eyes, smiling Prince after she had dressed as the Knight of the Laughing Tree at the Tourney at Harrenhal. 

She could still remember his chuckle, the large grin he gave her as he teased her and congratulated her. She could still remember when, out of admiration for her, he had crowned her his Queen of Love and Beauty; now they called it the day that all smiles had died.

She had remembered initially being ever so joyful to have received it, and then that had turned to anger when she had imagined herself in Elia’s position. The Princess Consort had already had a sweet and beautiful daughter, little Rhaenys, and was heavily pregnant once more. If Lyanna had been Rhaegar’s wife, she would have been devastated.

She confronted him that night, she could recall, just after Ned had sneaked off to Ashara Dayne’s chambers, and he had listened and stood as she had yelled at him and, to her embarrassment, cried in frustration over what Elia must think of her now.

Lyanna had always admired the Dornish, always wanted to be like them with their beliefs that women could be just as good as men, that they should be trained at the sword and be able to become Heirs. And for a girl of five and ten to think that the people she looked up to hated her, it had been awful.

He had sat with her that night; told her of what a brilliant mind Elia had, and how much he admired her, but of how they had never loved one another. Fond, most definitely, but it had been more a platonic love than a romantic one. Rhaegar had confided in her how, after Rhaenys’ birth, they had both lived their lives separately, only coming together as a show of unity in public, and of how Elia had confided in him that Aegon was not even his son.

What had truly won Lyanna’s admiration over for the Prince, was his answer to her inquiry as to whether or not he would claim the babe. He had told her that he would, because of Elia’s fragile health and he would not leave the child alone in the world. 

That night, a friendship had struck between the She-Wolf and the Last Dragon, which had only progressed over the four days left of Harrenhal. By the last day, they were sharing secret kisses and whispering sweet nothings, and promises in ears, that they would see each other once more.

In all honesty, Lyanna could safely say that she had fell in love with Rhaegar by then, and hoped that he had come to love her as well, especially as he had told her about the Prophecy of the Prince that was promised.

Having left a letter for her father and sent one to Brandon, Lyanna met up with Rhaegar months later just off of Harrenhal, and they had ran away together.

They spent many a nights under candle light, reading about his Prophecy, learning about the Long Night; she would tell him of the stories of Old Nan, and he would tell her of his letters to Maester Aemon.

They were married by the High Septon, and his marriage to Elia had been annulled. Initially, they had planned for Rhaegar to stay wed to Elia, and Lyanna would become his second wife, but the Septon had refused to condone such a marriage, so, instead, Rhaegar had annulled his first marriage but then issued a legitimization of both Rhaenys and Aegon.

That way, both were still in line for the throne but after any children of Rhaegar and Lyanna. Lyanna had even plucked up the courage to write to Elia, she had wanted to be the one to tell her so she would take all the fire for it, if Rhaegar had never met her then no such things would have happened; she felt it was her fault.

Good Princess Elia had responded most kindly, and had cited of how she understood, and had even told Lyanna of her new paramour. The two struck a friendship and, when things were getting rough in King’s Landing, Elia sent Princess Rhaenys to her to look after her.

Not even Rhaegar knew what Lyanna did, that Aegon’s true father was Maelor Blackfyre, the bastard son of Maelys Blackfyre’s younger sister, hence the babe’s more Targaryen looks.

Luckily, the Mad King had agreed for Rhaenys to leave due to his dislike for the little Princess’ more Dornish looks and her gender making him decide she was not a threat, though the King had been under the impression that she was leaving for Sunspear.

Her child, Lyanna knew, had been conceived the day that a red star had made it’s way across the night sky, and Rhaegar and herself had watched it as they pressed kisses to one another, and uttered of their love for one another.

Before that night, Rhaegar had agreed to let her go North with him, but with him now assured that she had the Prince that was Promised within her womb, he had decreed she had to stay to keep her, the child and Rhaenys safe.

And so she had. She came to see little Rhaenys as her own daughter, and regularly wrote to Elia on how the Princess was progressing, what new words she discovered. In the Princess of Dorne’s writing, Lyanna could see the pain of being parted from her daughter, and it made her admire the woman all the more for she loved her daughter enough to protect her from harm, even if that meant the possibility of never seeing her again.

Rhaenys loved to feel the baby kick, and her violet eyes glimmered with joy when such an event occurred. Rhaegar and Elia’s daughter looked more Dornish than Targaryen, it was true, with olive skin and ebony hair, with the same delicate beauty as Elia, but she had the Targaryen purple eyes.

They had cried together the day that the news came of Elia and Aegon’s murder, and they had done the same after the Battle of the Trident; through all of this, it was Rhaenys who kept her strong and hopeful. 

“When will the baby be born, Ly-Ly?” Little Rhaenys inquired, bring Lyanna back to the present. The Dowager Princess of Westeros smiled at the girl.

“Any day now,” Lyanna informed the three year old girl who looked at Lyanna excitedly at the news, “if I go away like your mama and papa you’ll look after the baby, won’t you?”

Her eyes serious Rhaenys nodded in assurance at Lyanna, “I will, I promise.”

Even though it was the promise of a girl just coming out of toddler-hood, it still reassured Lyanna as she leant back on the bed.

She feared dying, like her mother, in childbirth. Lyarra Stark had died giving birth to Benjen, leaving her children to be raised by Rickard alone; she didn’t want to leave Rhaenys and her child alone in the world, leaving them to fend for themselves in a world full of lions and stags.

Determinedly, as if trying to prove her strength to herself, Lyanna got up off of the bed and moved around the room, smiling slightly as young Rhaenys began to reprimand her, informing her that the wet nurse (whom Elia had kindly sent with Rhaenys, along with a loyal-to-Elia Maester) had told her to stay in bed. However almost as soon as she was upright and moving, a wave of pain hit her and Lyanna found herself almost falling over, knocking over a vase in the process.

“Rhaenys,” Lyanna panted as another one came, the little girl all but ran to her, “get the midwife, the child is coming.”

Lyanna’s words were further confirmed when she felt something wet between her thighs; her water had broke.

Not moments later, the mid wife was in the room and guiding Lyanna back to the bed, scolding her for having got up in the first place. As the pains began to increase over time, Lyanna had to fight to force down a scream.

“Ly-Ly, why are there swords clanging outside?” Rhaenys inquired. Over the pain, Lyanna hadn’t been able to hear them, focusing on her pain, but after Rhaenys pointed it out, Lyanna’s eyes widened, able to hear Ned’s voice from her window.

“Rhaenys, go to Maester Mors and tell him to go outside,” they did not need the man as of currently anyway, for now, the labour was going as it should be according to the mid wife, “tell him to say to the Kingsguards to put down their weapons and let my brother come to see me. Nobody needs to die tonight; no more people should die for me.”

Every time she thought of it, guilt crushed her. If only she and Rhaegar had told more people, if she had sent more letter than just to her father; then this could have been avoided. It was her and Rhaegar’s actions which had resulted in the deaths of tens of thousands of people, and she would never forgive herself for it.

Espeically for the deaths of her father, Brandon, Elia, Aegon and Rhaegar himself.

Finally, Lyanna’s resolve over not screaming broke and she let out a screech as the pain hit her harder and harder, she barely noticed as Ser Arthur Dayne, Ser Oswell Whent, Ser Gerold Hightower and her brother all came rushing into the tower. The mid wife tried to usher them all out, but Arthur Dayne and Ned stayed, Arthur as he was Prince Rhaegar’s best friend and felt the need to stay there and ensure that they were okay, and Ned because he was still in shock and her brother.

Rhaenys went out with Ser Gerold, Lyanna having asked him to take her out, she didn’t need to see this; especially is Lyanna was to die here.

“I’m so sorry Ned,” Lyanna sobbed, her voice hoarse from screaming as the mid wife continued to urge her to push, “it’s all my fault. I left a note for father but Brandon had clearly already gone; all of this was because of Rhaegar and I, and neither of us ever forgave ourselves. I loved him Ned, I truly loved him. And I love him still.”

Lyanna had to pause to yell out in pain as the contractions became even swifter than before, leaving her near panting and breathless as she continued, “he never took me by force, we planned to run away together. You have to believe me Ned. I’m so, so sorry.”

Despite her apologies, Lyanna knew that she did not deserve to be forgiven for the mistakes she made, “I love you, big brother,” she told her older brother, tears falling down her cheeks like a waterfall as the guilt consumed her.

“One last push,” the midwife urged and Lyanna did so, her eyes watering eith joy rather than sorrow when she heard the piercing cry of a baby, and as Rhaenys ran in, ignoring Ser Gerold’s bids for her to stay put.

“Is it healthy?” Lyanna inquired desperately as the babe was lowered into her arms. She was about to ask the gender as well, but with the baby placed in her arms, she could tell for herself.

She had a son.

She let out a sob as she saw his blue eyes open, no doubt they would soon change into either her light grey eyes or Rhaegar’s almost black indigo eyes. His dark brown hair matched hers down to the shade, which, for a babe, he had a lot of. But it had a slight curl to it, and that was the same as Rhaegar’s.

His nose and ears and long face were all Stark; but she could already recognise his eye shape as Rhaegar’s, and Rhaegar’s more than pronounced cheekbones. She wondered if, when he grew, he would have a strong jaw line like her, or a sharper one like Rhaegar.

“He’s beautiful, Lya,” Ned spoke for the first time, Arthur nudging him having broken him out of his state of shock. He knew the child looked more like his sister than Rhaegar, though even he could see a few signs of who his father was. Mainly the noise, Ned thought, Lyanna did not know the meaning of quiet but Rhaegar had seemed like the more silent and brooding type on the occasions that Ned had met him.

His sister and Rhaegar surely were as different as ice and fire.

“What will his name be?” Ned asked, looking at the child.

“He will be called Maekar,” Lyanna told him, brushing a gentle finger along her son’s cheek, “my little Maekar.”

Ned was slightly surprised by the name, in all honesty, he had half expected Rhaegar or Aegon or Jaehaerys or even Aemon. Lyanna, without looking up from her son, elaborated after Ned voiced his surprise, “I don’t think I could deal with the grief of calling him Rhaegar; Aegon was the name of his brother;” Lyanna did not elabourate that Aegon was not even his half-brother but step-brother for it did not matter, he was still family, “Rhaegar and I did discuss Jaehaerys, and while the first was an excellent King, the second was sickly and another Jaehaerys was murdered, we decided that we wanted a stronger name; and there have been three Aemon Targaryen but they have never been King, we didn’t want people to mutter that the fourth would never come into his throne either. Especially now with Robert having usurped the throne and will do anything to steal my son’s birthright.”

She ignored the way that Ned tensed when she mentioned Robert and continued, “meanwhile, there has only been one Maekar. King Maekar, first of his name, who was a more than capable commander of armies against any pretenders and was regarded as, despite the rebellions, a peaceful reign.”

Towards the end of her speech, Lyanna’s voice had begun to weaken, and fear gripped Ned as he saw that her bed sheets were being stained red. 

Arthur ran off to get the Maester and a crying Rhaenys had to be dragged from the room by Ser Gerold Hightower as Ned held his nephew as his sister began to weaken.

“You have to live, Lya,” Ned begged of Lyanna, “for Rhaenys, for Maekar. For me… For father, for Brandon who gave their lives up for you. Don’t let their murders be for nothing.”

Perhaps, Ned would never forgive Lyanna for the tens of thousands of deaths, but in the end, she was still his sister. And she always would be the dearest woman in his heart, right next to their beloved mother: Lyarra.

Just then, the Maester came rushing in, telling Ned, who was holding Prince Maekar, to go outside as his sister fought for her life.

\----

Without Maester Mors, Lyanna likely would have died, but the Dornish natural born son of a Yronwood had managed to stop the bleeding, though had decreed that Lyanna needed to stay in bed for at least two months, having lost a lot of blood.

Ned had no trouble believing that, for when he reentered Lyanna’s bed chamber, Ser Arthur Dayne now lovingly holding Prince Maekar, she lay within a bed of blood. Taking some winter roses out of a vase he found smashed upon the floor, he placed them at her side; knowing how she loved them so. 

Princess Rhaenys could not be deterred from the room, and it surprised Ned how much the little girl had taken to Lyanna. Last he had heard, the Princess was heading for Sunspear. As Rhaenys, under Ser Oswell and Ser Gerold’s watch, held the Prince, Arthur told Ned of the annulment of Rhaegar and Elia’s marriage, and the legitimization of Rhaenys and Aegon, of Lyanna and Rhaegar’s marriage and of the affection between Princess Rhaenys and the Dowager Princess Consort Lyanna Targaryen.

It wasn’t until late evening that Ned sat by Lyanna’s side alone, holding her hand as she weakly blinked, gazing past him and instead at her son in the crib nearby.

“You must tell Robert and everyone else that I’ve died, Ned,” Lyanna demanded weakly, “but not Benjen, I couldn’t bear to have him think me dead. Say I died of a fever to them all, that you found me in a bed of blood.”

“But Robert,” Ned began to protest, only to be cut off by Lyanna.

“-will have my Maekar and Rhaenys murdered, and then take me for his Queen whether it be by force or will, and I will never stand for that,” Lyanna told him, “I would rather the world have believed me to be a Dragon’s whore than a Stag’s wife.”

Ned nodded in acceptance, knowing that he would have no choice regardless.

“Promise me, Ned?” Lyanna begged, “you can’t ever talk of me, of Maekar or of Rhaenys. Or they will send men to kill us.”

“I promise you, Lya,” Ned told her, “though you and I both know that it is inevitable that somebody will tell him one day.”

Lyanna did a pathetic kind of nod, clearly still drowsy, “I know. But we will at least have some time, a head start.”

For the first time, Lyanna’s eyes moved up from Maekar and she looked to Ned, “are you going to leave soon?”

“No, Lya,” Ned said to his little sister, “I’ll send Robert a letter saying I’m still searching. I’ll leave when you do.”

“In two months then,” Lyanna informed him, when Ned went to protest she cut him off once more, “I cannot say bedridden forever, Ned. I’m taking the children to Essos, the Kingsguards will have the choice whether to stay with me or leave to serve Robert. We will more than likely go to Braavos, Rhaegar always said he’d take me there.”

“Have you got enough money?” Ned ensured.

“Rhaegar managed smuggle some of the King’s money and saved some of his income,” Lyanna told him, “we have enough to live comfortably for several years.”

“I will give you some more,” Ned informed her, and silenced her objections, “I will not have my little sister, nephew and a young girl out starving in the streets.”

“Thank you, Ned,” Lyanna said with a smile, knowing her brother would not accept an argument.

“I love you, little sister.”

“You too, big brother.”

They sat in a comfortable silence for several moments before Lyanna finally requested, “when you get back to Winterfell, do me a favour and pour more wine over Benjen’s head. I don’t think I poured enough at Harrenhal, my goblet was only half full.”

Ned laughed, a true, barking laugh, and as did Lyanna.

For a moment, the war that had happened was forgotten, as was the one that was sure to come.


	2. the Journey East

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Lyanna heads to Starfall and then onto Sunspear, gaining a new companion and they set their final course of direction.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The two haters I got inspired me to write more :)  
> To reitorate, I got the idea to do this book from a CHALLENGE on FF.net, I have not read many Lyanna lives books; I just saw the challenge and thought I'd give it a go as I'd never written from Lyanna's perspective before. I also never justified Lyanna and Rhaegar's adultery, and as you will see, Lyanna constantly beats herself up over it and Ned never forgives her for what happened. But Lyanna and Rhaegar were young and in love and made mistakes.
> 
> Thank you so much to the people who posted lovely comments and they brighten my day to read them, and make me smile to know that somebody is enjoying my writing :)

Chapter 2 – the Journey East

By the time that Lyanna’s bed ridden days had come to an end, the year 284 AC had begun and Princess Rhaenys had turned four. It was with much regret that her birthday festives were nowhere near as celebrated as they were last year, but they neither had the time nor funds for that.

During those two months, they also bid goodbye to Ser Oswell Whent, who went back to King’s Landing. He had much regret in leaving, but was determined to be there for his sister, whose husband and sons had perished in the war. 

In contrast, the ever loyal Ser Arthur Dayne as well as Ser Gerold Hightower remained. Ser Gerold was to, once again, be the Lord Commander of the Kingsguard whereas Ser Arthur was to also be Princess Rhaenys’ Sword Shield, and he had been most glad to do so.

For their travels, Lyanna had also decided that she and the children all needed fake names to travel with. Lyanna had chosen Arya for herself, for her beloved maternal grandmother; Rhaenys had begged to be called Alysanne after one of her favourite Queens and young Maekar was to be called Jon, after Jon Stark, King of Winter and her ancestor and Arthur Dayne chose to be Baelon for their journey and Ser Gerold was to go as Corys. 

Her party and Ned’s would travel some distance away from one another to avoid suspicion, and would then meet up once more at Starfall, where Ser Arthur had longed to drop into in order to say goodbye to his siblings.

Idly Lyanna wondered, Maekar – or ‘Jon’ as he was to be called on the duration of the journey – in her arms, if Ned was nervous about seeing Lady Ashara once more. He may be married to Catelyn, but he had loved Ashara first and foremost. In fact, Lyanna remembered how young, honourable Ned Stark had slipped into Lady Ashara’s chambers at Harrenhal. She couldn’t help but giggle at the thought.

Lyanna looked down as Maekar began to make a fuss, and swiftly cooed at him rather awkwardly. She may be a mother now, but she had only been Princess Rhaenys’ age when her own mother had died, and she was still settling into the aspect of it. The mid wife had barely withheld laughing at her the first time that she had tried to feed her son, not knowing what to do.

“I see Starfall, Your Highness,” Ser Arthur informed the former Princess, not to be called ‘Your Majesty’ as she never became Queen, “it seems my family know of our arrival.”

True enough, the gates to Starfall were opening up for their arrival; and she could see three figures awaiting them within the not too distant, majestic castle. The former home of the Kings of the Torrentine. 

They had arrived before Ned’s party, it seemed.

When Lyanna got inside the castle, she threw back the hood that was concealing her identity and handed Prince Maekar to Ser Gerold, jumping off of her horse. Rhaenys had been riding with Ser Arthur, and was already upon the ground.

Ashara Dayne was the first to recognise them, and her purple eyes glimmered in recognition as she smiled at Lyanna and gave her a small curtsey, “Princess Lyanna, Elia told me much about you,” Ashara then curtsied even lower, “Princess Rhaenys.”

“It is lovely to see you again as well, Elia,” Lyanna stated with a smile, before turning to address Lord Aaeron Dayne – the Heir to Starfall - and his wife, Lady Fyona Dayne, “thank you for your hospitality.”

“What names will you be going as here, Princess Lyanna?” The Heir to Starfall inquired of her, “you can be assured that we will not say anything, but I cannot promise that my household will not; after all, rumours have already begun that you are dead and we were told that Princess Rhaenys was in Sunspear.”

“I will be Arya, Prince Maekar,” Lyanna gestured to her son to ensure that Aaeron knew who she was addressing, “will be known as Jon, Rhaenys has decided she wishes to be known as Alysanne, Arthur has asked to be called Baelon and Ser Gerold is to be Corys.”

Aaeron nodded to the names, trying to commit them to memory, before moving to greet his brother with a large hug.

Closing her eyes, Lyanna breathed in the air; wondering what it would be like when she finally when to Braavos, leaving Westeros behind her. Though she would return, one day, she knew. Return with an army.

In moments like these, she wonder how Queen Rhaella was coping on Dragonstone with Prince Viserys. Lyanna truly wished that she could go to Rhaella, but that was foolish; it would be like putting all precious gems in one basket, giving the thief the chance to steal them all in one.

She would not let any harm come to Rhaenys or Maekar.

“Come, Arya,” Aaeron prompted, putting emphasis upon her new name, “we must take Jon and Alysanne to the nursery, and then we shall have a feast. How long do you, Baelon, Corys and the children plan to stay?”

“We shall be gone before the weak is over, Lord Aaeron.”

\----

Both Ned and Lyanna and their companions indeed stayed the week, Ned arriving two hours after Lyanna. Briefly, the dark brown haired, grey eyed She-Wolf wondered if her brother knew that she heard him creeping down the halls to Lady Ashara’s rooms; that she saw them holding hands under the feast table; saw the tearful goodbye.

Ned was to leave first.

Lyanna wrapped him up in a tight hug, tears working their way down her cheeks. She didn’t know how long it would be before she saw her beloved brother again, it could be years. It would more than likely be over a decade. 

“I will miss you, Ned,” Lyanna told him, “I hope everything goes well with Catelyn and your newborn son.”

“Thank you, Lya,” Ned said, holding onto her even more tightly, “I hope all the same for you. And know, I will always be on your side.”

Lyanna’s expression was shocked, for she swiftly knew what it meant. That should war come, the North would support them, Ned would support them; and it meant more than the world to Lyanna.

“Thank you.”

And with that, the two parted, and Ned jumped upon his horse; never looking back. Lyanna hoped that she could do the same when she left.

Looking to her side, she saw Lady Ashara in men’s clothing, small bags by her side that surely held belongings. Lyanna’s eyebrows raised.

At the Princess Dowager’s questioning expression Ashara soon began to speak, “I’ve got nothing left for me here. Aaeran will be starting a new family with Fyona soon, my mother is pregnant again and will have yet another child to look after and Arthur is leaving with you. Please, allow me to go as well. I will know that I will be doing Princess Elia proud by helping look after her daughter.”

Initially, Lyanna was going to refuse; not wanting to make another person go on the run, and they surely didn’t have the supplies to accommodate another person, but she felt herself falter at the latter part of the speech. For Elia. And when Ashara flashed her own bag of golden dragons, Lyanna had seen no reasons to refuse, even if Ser Arthur wouldn’t be the happiest about it.

“Very well,” Lyanna stated, smiling at the Dornish woman, “we leave within the hour.”

 

Lyanna smiled warmly as Rhaenys chattered away happily to Ashara as the Dayne woman told the little girl stories about her mother. Earlier, Lyanna had had to scold herself when she had felt a pang of jealousy with Rhaenys listening to stories about her true mother.

Lyanna already adored the little girl like a daughter, but she knew that she should never and could never take the place of Elia, and that she shouldn’t feel jealous about how much Rhaenys loved to hear about her.

Ashara, as it happened, she got along with well. She had worried that the woman would be tense with her having loved Ned only for him to marry another and for people to be able to see Lyanna as having usurped Elia (even if Elia did not feel the same way). 

The woman told her about how her family had trained her in combat, taking a leaf from the Martell’s book, but she also loved to sew. Ashara had shown her her sewing of the banner of House Dayne on her jerkin, and Lyanna had swiftly asked the older woman to teach her how to sew.

At Winterfell, Lyanna had never liked her sewing teacher – her grandmother Marna Locke – as the woman was mightily strict and would slap Lyanna, hard, should she go a stitch out of place; leading Lyanna to beg her father to let her stop. However, Lyanna thought that Ashara would be a far better teacher, and the Dayne woman had readily agreed.

“Will I be taught how to sew as well, little sister?” Ser Arthur Dayne had teased, listening into their conversation; both Ashara and Lyanna had laughed at the image of the broad shouldered, silver-gold haired Arthur Dayne sewing. Rhaenys, who was sitting in front of Arthur upon his horse, had dissolved into a little fit of giggles which Lyanna had thought was ever so sweet.

“Of course,” Ashara played along, smiling at him, “you too, Ser Gerold, after all, what use are Kingsguard if they do not know how to sew? Not very efficient ones, that’s for sure.”

“Indeed, I say you better start leaning,” Lyanna said grinning.

It had taken them just shy of three weeks to make it from Starfall to Sunspear on horseback, allowing for a slower speed and more stops as they had young children with them. 

Ashara, while they had still been at Starfall, had sent a letter ahead to Prince Doran to inform them of the arrival of her and her guests ‘Jon’, ‘Arya’, ‘Alysanne’, ‘Corys’ and ‘Baelon’, therefore they were not expecting who came.

Lyanna had her hood up as they rode in, and she felt fear clutch at her; what if they resented her and Maekar because of what had happened? Had Elia told them of her? For insurance, she had brought her letters from Elia and, for insurance in the future, she had also brought with her her letters from Rhaegar, as well as for sentimental value. She also had her marriage papers, the annulment papers, the legitimization papers along with Rhaenys and Maekar’s christening papers confirming their identity with the signature of the High Septon.

As it was the Lady of a Minor House and a few guests that were coming who seemed unimportant, Prince Doran was not there to greet them at the gates himself; it was instead Prince Oberyn.

Lyanna looked over to see Rhaenys grinning ear to ear at the sight of her uncle, clearly she remembered him. Though it would break her heart, Lyanna had half a mind to leave Rhaenys in the protection of Dorne, perhaps even try to seek after it herself, but it would put them at too great a risk. She had already done enough to Elia, there was no need to be a tool in destroying the country she had written often about too.

“Lovely to see you, Lady Ashara,” Oberyn had stated when she had got off of her horse, only for his eyes to widen in considerable shock when Ser Arthur got off, carrying Rhaenys.

“Uncle Oby!” The little girl cried out as she rushed into the comfort of her Uncle’s arms.

Oberyn held her tightly, and Lyanna could clearly see that the Dornish man was crying. She was not surprised. Rhaenys, bar the eyes, was Elia’s image, and with his sister dead Rhaenys would surely be a grateful sight.

“Rhaenys,” he breathed out, holding the young child close to him, “you’re okay, you’re alive.”

He then looked up, still holding the young Princess in his arms, as Lyanna was lowering her hood once more. For a moment, she froze under the gaze of the brown eyed Prince before he said, “thank you for keeping Rhaenys safe.”

She relaxed, clearly Oberyn knew, and she hoped that Doran did too.

“She is a wonderful girl,” Lyanna told him softly, “she has been no trouble and adores my young son as well, I only want the best for her.”

Oberyn’s eyes turned to interest as he looked at the bundle within Lyanna’s arms. Elia had told him of the annulment, legitimization and the marriage of Lyanna and Rhaegar. That boy was the rightful King, and Rhaenys his Heiress until he had any children of his own.

“Then you surely know that she can’t stay here in Dorne then,” Doran said, coming around one of the corners to where he had clearly been waiting. He had probably had his suspicions about the fake names then, Lyanna supposed, realising she had underestimated the man, “we don’t have enough men to properly raise up arms after the last war, and the new King would surely declare such if he saw the Princess. Last week, he ordered her execution and we had to inform him that she had never arrived in Sunspear. He had even sent people to check, and to kill her on sight.”

Lyanna had always thought low of Robert and his whoring ways, she had loathed him after he had condoned the deaths of Elia and Aegon, and now she utterly hated him. This time, it couldn’t be blamed on Tywin Lannister, it was Robert and Robert alone who was ordering a four year old girl’s death.

Oberyn was angered by his brother’s words and swiftly spat out, “we could keep her here in Dorne. We have more men still fighting here than the usurper has in his armies. We could take the throne.”

“But we will not,” Doran stated firmly, leaving no space for arguments. When Oberyn went to argue once more, Doran informed him that he either shut up or go back to the Castle, and the younger Prince chose the former, not wanting to leave his niece, “you may stay here for a day during your travels and collect supplies, I would give more funds to aid Rhaenys’ livelihood but it would not be safe to stay any longer as Varys has planted many a little birds upon Robert’s orders here, and the inspectors have barely left and could return at whim.”

Lyanna nodded, “we won’t trouble you any more than a night.”

“Very well,” Doran stated, “I am sure that the Sand Snakes and my children, especially Princess Arianne, are more than eager to meet Princess Rhaenys once more, and I’m sure that there is more than enough space in the nursery the rightful King. My son Quentyn is almost three and still resides there.”

“His name is Maekar,” Lyanna informed Doran and Oberyn proudly, aware that neither of them yet knew his first name and were having to simply refer to him by title, “second of his name.”

That night, they all toasted to King Maekar Targaryen, second of his name, King of the Andals, the Rhoynar, and the First Men.  
The next morning, as they were readying to leave, Oberyn and the Targaryen Princess’ cousins saying a tearful goodbye to Rhaenys, Lyanna was bumped into by a young child. The young child swiftly apologised but forced a note into her hand none the less.

Eye brows furrowed, Lyanna looked around to ensure that nobody else had seen what had transpired or who could have put the child up to the task, and chose to read it.

Lyanna, Dowager Princess of Westeros,  
My little birds have informed me that two dragons, another had been born of the light dragon, and a plowman are on their way to the southern coast of Braavos.  
Good tidings.

Lyanna immediately knew who such a letter was from as Rhaegar had told her much about the man whom you never knew when to trust or not to trust; the man who often proclaimed that he served the realm and nothing else.

The spider: Varys.

The other two dragons were Viserys and another child of Rhaella, that much was obvious when he had said the ‘light dragon’. She had remembered how Rhaegar had told her that, once or twice his good mother had been called the ‘light dragon’ by her sole supporters whereas her father had been called the ‘dark dragon’.

As for the ‘plowman’, Lyanna knew that a Darry – Willam she believed – had gone with Rhaella to Dragonstone, so surely he had gotten them away.

However, she also had to consider the risks that Varys was setting her up, trying to get her, Rhaenys, Maekar and the Daynes all killed for Robert; as a show of loyalty. But if she did not then Viserys and this other child would have nobody but this old Darry man, who, should he die, would leave them begging on the streets. 

After all, House Darry could not support them. Ashara had told of how Robert had taken away half of their fortunes after the war for having supported House Targaryen. 

Sighing, Lyanna knew that she had no choice but to take the risk. She could not simply abandon her good siblings, that was just like kinslaying in her own mind for she surely knew how such events would carry out.

“To the western coast of Braavos, aye?” The sailor inquired of them. It was a small, run down boat called the Sun’s Voyage. It was not as if they could travel large, it would draw too much attention.

Just as Ser Arthur Dayne went to agree, Lyanna objected, “no, to the Southern Coast please.”

At the Daynes’s and Ser Gerold’s questioning looks she handed them the letter, and they each read it in turn. Though they both did site the risks, just as she had, they eventually came to the agreement that they were going to find them. After all, strength in numbers, and four Targaryens was a whole lot better than two; and would hopefully inspire more people to join their cause with a relatively long line of succession already in place.


	3. Braavos

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Lyanna and her comapnions finally arrive in Braavos and are reunited with the other Targaryens

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all the lovely comments I got, they always brighten my day.
> 
> Hope you all enjoy this chapter :)

Chapter 3: Braavos

Lyanna had spent much time at the helm of the ship, staring off at the far away land. Soon enough, she would be starting off her own life in Essos, trying to make it safe for Princess Rhaenys, Prince Viserys, rightful King Maekar and the Queen’s child whom Lyanna knew little about.

Most days, Ashara stood with her; some days Arthur did and occasionally Ser Gerold would. However, the peace that she had felt upon the ship initially had soon faded to anticipation, which had then faded to fear.

Often she found herself fretting over whether or not she would ever find Viserys or Rhaella’s other child, if she would fail them. But she was determined not to.

It was in this moment though, as they placed the plank that connected them to the docks of Southern Braavos, that she truly felt relief. She had escaped; she and Maekar and Rhaenys were all safe. For now.

The Kingsguard had had to hide their cloaks and had muddied their armour in Dorne to prevent them from being recognised too easily, and the Martells had given plain clothing for Lyanna and the children as they would attract less attention without the finery; all of the magnificent jewellery and dresses packed securely within an innocent looking chest.

Braavos was hot during it’s summer, not as hot as Dorne but definitely hotter than the North; perhaps on par with the Westerlands or RIverlands.

As they ventured into the crowds, however, the masses of people brought up the temperature further and made Lyanna shift uncomfortably and cause Maekar to let out a long wail.

“This is where you can apply for plots of land or a house,” the sailor, who had been kind enough to show them to the seat of the Sealord, informed them.

“Thank you,” Lyanna told him gratefully, and handed him is payment with what more extra they could spare. The man smiled gratefully, before beginning to weave his way back through the crowds to get back to his boat.

Ashara was the first to move, knocking soundly upon the door and awaiting an answer.

When it was answered, a flamboyantly dressed man came to the door, eyes narrowed suspiciously, “how can the Sealord help you?”

From her reading, Lyanna supposed that this man must be either the First, Second or Third Sword of Braavos.

“We have come to purchase a purchase a house to live in,” Lyanna informed the man, “we are travelling from Lys, and would like to settle in your beautiful country.”

The man still seemed suspicious, but it was not as if he could truly argue. With Arthur, Rhaenys and Ashara’s purple eyes, a common trait in Lys and both Arthur and Gerold’s silvery hair, it was entirely plausible.

“Very well,” he opened the door further and allowed them in, “I am Qarro Volentin, the Second Sword of Braavos.”

Lyanna knew well that he was not introducing himself as a pleasantry, it was a warning; informing them he was more than efficient with the sword should they dare to try anything.

“I am Arya,” Lyanna introduced with a smile, “this is Jon, Alysanne, Baelon, Corys and,” thinking on her feet, Lyanna swiftly came up with a name for Ashara, of which they had yet to do, “Sarra.”

The She-Wolf refrained from a wince as the saw the Sworn Sword grow even further suspicious at her momentary relapse, but he did not comment upon it. Instead, he lead them straight to a clearly high up man in the Sealord’s court who Lyanna supposed must handle this kind of business.

“Welcome to Braavos,” the man greeted in a bored tone, as if he had already said this a thousand or so times, which Lyanna reckoned that he truly had.

\----

“A boy with silver hair an’ purple eyes?” A man in the pub inquired in utter disbelief, capturing Lyanna’s attention immediately, “you don’t see that very often ‘ere. Those Dragonlord ain’t welcome.”

Lyanna was surprised not only to hear the man speaking her common tongue, but also that Viserys had been sighted. Or, at least, who she hoped was Viserys and not just a Lynese emigrant. 

Getting up off of her chair, ignoring the protests of the Kingsguard, Lyanna walked over to the man and questioned of him, “do you know where the boy was seen?”

He raised a brow at her, but gestured for his companion to continue. From their breast plates, she recognised them as lowborn nights of Houses Mormont and Glover. It sent a pang to her chest, remembering the North.

“’E was seen heading towards a red doored house on Titan’s Street, not too far from ‘ere,” the other man told her. 

Lyanna had thanked him and had begun to walk away from him until he called her back. Lyanna paused for a moment and her breath caught in her chest as she heard him ask, “lass, do I know you?”

Forcing her face calm, Lyanna turned to the man and replied smoothly, “no, I’m afraid not. I am from Lys, and you do not seem to have come from there.”

“Nor do you,” the other man grunted, scrutinizing her, “you look like those beautiful Northern girls back ‘ome.”

“Well, I am not,” Lyanna said coldly, panic setting in as she made her way back to the table, taking Maekar from Ser Gerold hurriedly while Ser Arthur picked up Princess Rhaenys.

“We must go,” Lyanna prompted, “they are men of the North.”

Nodding in understanding, they all soon left; unaware of the damage that Lyanna had done by allowing herself to be seen by those Northernmen.

\----

The party of six soon arrived, though it took them much longer than it should have as they had walked past the street several times, at Titan’s street. In true Braavosi flamboyancy, each door was painted a different colour, but still, there were three doors of varying shades of red upon the street.

Ser Gerold Hightower knocked on the first, and two elderly Braavosi had come out, dark hair greying and annoyed at the intrusion. Gerold had swiftly apologised and they had gone on to the next.

The second door, Lyanna herself knocked upon. Her heart had raced as she baited her breath and hoped for the faces of Ser Darry or Prince Viserys, but she had been disappointed when it was instead a young couple with two small children. The man, though his hair was not silver-gold, had blonde hair whereas the woman had dark hair; with one dark haired child and another light haired. She felt crushed at the sight of the family that she and Rhaegar could have been; she would give up any crown, any castle for him.

Some may have called it seduction, with the age difference and her, to this date, still being but seven and ten; but she had loved him. And he had told her he loved her as well.

And so they moved on, coming face to face with the last house. There, a lovely townhouse lay with a red door. This time, Ser Arthur was to be the one who knocked, and everybody baited a breath as he did so.

“Hello?” Inquired the man who opened the door. Lyanna did not recognise him, but clearly the man recognised Ser Arthur Dayne as he swiftly attempted to slam the door in his face, which the Kingsguard prevented with his foot.

“Nice to see you too, Ser Willem,” Arthur said sarcastically, clamping a hand over the man’s face as he went to yell out; probably for Viserys and whoever was looking after the Queen’s youngest child to hide. And that would do them no good. 

“Don’t shout, I am not here with Robert,” Arthur informed him, Ser Gerold stepping forward just in case something transpired, “I am here with the Princess Lyanna, Princess Rhaenys and Lyanna and Rhaegar’s son: Prince Maekar. We have come to find Viserys and the Queen’s other child.”

The man, Willem Darry, stared at Lyanna in disbelief. Clearly, he had not been explicitly told, though something in his gaze informed her that he had thought that the stories were not true; that the Prince had not kidnapped her.

Slowly, he nodded to Ser Arthur, and the Kingsguard brought his hand away from the man’s mouth cautiously. 

“Come in,” Willem said, “we can’t risk anybody else catching sight of us.”

They all did so, and Ser Willem looked at little Rhaenys with a smile. Clearly he remembered her too from what time he had spent at Court, and Lyanna had no doubt that, in their time on Dragonstone, Queen Rhaella would have gloated about having had such a wonderful granddaughter.

A maid soon came in, her light hair and sea green eyes suggesting she hailed from House Velaryon, or perhaps yet another from Lys, and the Darry knight soon commanded, “bring Viserys and Daenerys to me.”

“Daenerys?” Lyanna heard Ser Gerold speak up in question, “is that what Rhaella called her daughter?”

Willem gave him a single nod, and soon the two children were brought into the room.

Viserys looked more like his father than Rhaegar had, harbouring the classic pale skin and silver-blonde hair of the Targaryens and other Valyrians, as well as having pale lilac eyes from Aerys, in contrast to his brother and mother’s almost black indigo eyes.

He looked to be healthy and robust, if a little small for his age (or, at least from what Lyanna could remember Benjen and her Flint cousins looking like at his age) but she was sure that he would grow.

Her eyes then cast upon the babe within the maid’s arms, but months younger than her own Maekar. The babe already had tuffs of silver hair, and when her eyes opened, they were an intense violet that was not the same shade as her mother nor her father. 

“Rhae?” She heard the eight year old Viserys question of his four year old niece.

“Vis!” The little girl shouted excitedly, soon propelling herself into the older boy’s arms, causing all the adults around them to chuckle.

After several moments of silence between Arthur, Gerold, Lyanna, Ashara and Willem, broken only by the chatter of the two eldest children, the latter soon inquired, “what do you plan to do, now that you have found them?”

All was quiet as they, rather foolishly, had not planned that far ahead. In fact, all Lyanna had planned was: go to Braavos, find Daeanerys and Viserys, get a house in Braavos, re-take the Seven Kingdoms.

“We will not be able to live here,” Ser Gerold stated, “it seems too small. How many room are there, Ser Willem?”

“Only three,” the man answered reluctantly, as if ashamed for what little he could afford Rhaella’s children; Prince and Princess of Westeros.

“We are buying an old mansion here,” Lyanna informed the man with a smile, “it is out the main harbour city, in the surburbs as to not arouse too much interest, but it has twelve bedrooms, so there will be more than enough space for all of us, yourself included if that is what you wish, Ser Willem?”

“I wish to serve good Queen Rhaella’s children until the day I die,” Willem Darry informed them, smiling affectionately at Viserys and Daenerys.

“Good,” Lyanna said with a smile.

It was but a moment before young Viserys spoke up, inquiring, “will there be a red door? Please say that there will be a red door!”

“Yes, there will be if that is what you wish,” Lyanna told the boy, hoping the prospect of a red door there would make him feel more at home.

“And can we bring the lemon tree seeds?”

Lyanna raised a brow at Willem Darry after Viserys spoke of such a question. Trees were a rarity in Dorne, only for the wealthy, and from the small townhouse and lack of household, it was clear that they could not afford it. In fact, Lyanna knew well that lemon trees were far more common in Dorne. Unless they were given by the Sealord…

“It was a gift from Dorne,” Willem informed her, confirming her first theory, “along with a missive informing us that they would back Viserys, who was then the only known Heir, should he come to claim it in the years to come. A while after this war, of course, as their forces are down.”

“How long ago was this?” Lyanna inquired.

“Five moons ago, Your Highness,” Willem informed her, and she nodded. She was not surprised. Five moons ago, she was in Starfall, not yet left, so they might of doubted whether or not Rhaenys was still alive, or Lyanna and her babe. 

“Yes, Prince Viserys,” Lyanna then answered after having collected such information from Willem, “you shall have your lemon tree.”

The boy grinned widely.

\----

The mansion was rather old, with some things that left needing to be redecorated or repaired, but was beautiful none the less. It was miniscule compared to the likes of the Red Keep or Winterfell, but still boasted three stories and a large, flat room with many windows that Lyanna was most grateful for.

The one thing she had disliked about Winterfell as a child was that a lot of the castle would often be dark due to lack of light from windows.

They also had a good two acres of land, with a large pond within it, to which Rhaenys and Viserys had eagerly asked to play in. Lyanna had told them later. She couldn’t have one of them falling in, so if they did go near the lake, it would be with a Kingsguard close by, watching them like a hawk.

Lyanna, though she had objected, had been given the largest bedroom. When she had tried to give it to one of the Kingsguard, they had both blatantly refused to she had taken it. It was, much to Lyanna’s thankfulness, right next to the nursery to where Maekar and Daenerys would be kept for the next few years, and beside the nursery was Rhaenys’ bedroom; beside Rhaenys’ bedroom was Viserys’, and then Ser Willem Darry’s and a few spare rooms after his.

To her other side, Ashara’s room resided, her brother Arthur’s beside hers and then Ser Gerold’s, again followed by a few more spare bedrooms.

Inside, it was already furnished much to Lyanna’s thankfulness. Though she would be sure to add her own touch to it, now was not a good time to be furnishing a manor with four young children and being in hiding, presumed dead by a usurper King.

She had stood outside in the gardens in the rain when Viserys had insisted that they plant the lemon tree right then and there, regardless of weather, smiling as Lady Ashara helped the young boy, who grinned as if he had won a great battle when the seed was safely within the group.

Neither Lyanna nor Ashara, Willem or any of the Kingsguard had the heart to tell him that the tree might not even grow, but they all prayed that it would for the little boy’s happiness.

Rhaenys had called Viserys back in soon, for a game of hide and seek, while the beautiful Lady Ashara, dark curly hair billowing, amethyst eyes determined, and exotic tan a contrast to Lyanna’s own pale skin had walked over to her.

They had both stood in silence for a moment, side by side, until Ashara broke such a silence by stating, “I am with child.”

Lyanna cracked a smile as she stated, “I noticed.”

It had been four moons since Ned had left Starfall, and they had headed to Sunspear, and Lyanna had most certainly noticed the moments in which Ashara was sick in the mornings, had greatly loosed her normally tight corset, and had not been able to eat until noon.

The elder woman’s face betrayed her confusion as she questioned, “how come you didn’t say anything?”

“I figured you would tell me when you were ready and had come to grips with it, I suppose,” Lyanna said, offering Ashara one of her more gentle smiles.

“But what about money-,”

“While we need to be cautious,” Lyanna cut off, “with the money from Rhaegar, and then my brother and your house and then the Martells as well, we are set for fifteen years if we live humbly. We can even get a few horses. Plus, the ground here is fertile and we can make more money growing crops and perhaps getting some livestock, you need not worry Ashara.”

“Thank you,” the woman said finally, offering Lyanna a grateful look and her shoulders sagging as if a great weight had been loaded off of her shoulders.

Lyanna laughed, “there is no need to thank me, we are family now.”

Somehow, with all the last living Targaryens reunited, a girl who was becoming like a sister to her by her side, the years to come seemed a whole lot less scary.


	4. the Last Dragons

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which fire reigns supreme, and new lives are born.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've added in more notes on chapter 1 so if you've heard about the whole 'she copied!' lie then be sure to check them out :), I hope you enjoy this chapter as I had so much fun writing it!
> 
> And if any of you are reading from my other book: Shades of Grey, Gold and Black, then I will be updating it this weekend, don't worry, it hasn't been forgotten :)

  
Chapter 4: the Last Dragons

 

Lyanna grinned down at her new niece, thinking how beautiful the child looked with Ned’s eyes and hair and long face but with Ashara’s lovely, exotic colouring. Looking over, her nephew, the youngest having been born twenty-two minutes after his older sister, had lighter skin that her niece, and with Ashara’s hair and eyes but his face was all Ned.

They were lovely children, and Lyanna was overjoyed at the fact that she would get to spend time with her niece and nephew, as she would surely not meet Ned’s other children for many years.

Eliana and Torrhen they had been called, the girl for the summer sun that had been the Princess of Dorne and Torrhen for an ancestor of House Stark; for be he baseborn or not he was still a Stark, and Ashara was determined to show it.

Lyanna’s grin only widened as little Maekar toddled in on unsteady legs, his curly raven coloured hair was already reaching towards his shoulders, dark purple eyes, Rhaegar’s eyes shining with pride as he realised that he was walking and helping cause his mother’s bright smile.

Daenerys, however, much to Lyanna’s amusement, was a very early walker and could out walk Maekar anyday. And upon this day, she did so, offering Maekar a very Targaryen smirk as she passed him, being the first to reach Lyanna. The younger boy gave Daenerys a small glower.

They truly were the blood of the dragon.

“Eliana is beautiful, Ashara,” Lyanna finally said, attempting to force back the tears from her eyes as she looked at her young niece, “Ned would have been so, so proud.”

“And yet he is not here,” Ashara stated with a sigh, “he is with his wife. The wife who I helped him commit adultery upon.”

There was silence between the two, other than Torrhen’s wails, as Lyanna was most unsure as to what to say to comfort the daughter of House Dayne, but soon began to improvise, “Ned is an honourable man, but it is as much his fault as it is yours; just like with Rhaegar and myself. Do not beat yourseld up about it, Ashara, as you cannot change it.”

Lyanna felt like a hypocrite saying such words, for she still continued to wonder, if she had never been at the Tourney, if she had stayed and been the Stark in Winterfell like her father had wanted, would the Seven Kingdoms have bled to such a degree? In her heart of hearts, she knew that an uprising would have come anyway with a King like mad Aerys, but would it have come so soon, and so disastrously, if she had not been in the picture?

Would Elia and her son, little Aegon, have died so tragically and brutally if she had never been in the picture.

It was then that Ser Arthur Dayne came in. Ashara’s brother had not been allowed in during the birth, though Lyanna had stayed by the older woman’s side, and had surely come to ensure the health of his sister and her children.

A grin formed on her face once more when she saw Ser Arthur staring at little Eliana in awe, and so she handed the little girl to him; watching his eyes fill up with what would be an Uncle’s love.

Then, she moved down to pick up the triumphant Daenerys with one arm and the sulking Maekar with the other, laughing as Maekar glowered at Rhaella’s daughter even more so and simply carried on from the room.

“A raven, Your Highness,” Ser Gerold announced, displaying a letter and a box that Lyanna would have took had her arms not been so occupied, “it is from Highgarden.”

Lyanna’s eyes shone with intrest as she thought of such a letter, remembering stories from her youth about the formidable Queen of Thorns. This would be the first time that any one from Westeros had contacted her, after all, they all thought she was dead. Or, at least, that’s the last that Lyanna had been aware of.

“I’ll take them to the gardens,” Ser Gerold offered when he saw Lyanna’s troubles, “Viserys and Rhaenys are already out there.”

Lyanna nodded to his suggestion, putting the two down and having to ignore any of their complaining. She made her way to her own personal study to open her letter, and when she did so, she immediately smelt the smell of roses; no doubt from some kind of expensive perfume.

_Dear Lyanna,_

_I am writing to inquire as to a possible alliance between our Houses. Our House has always supported House Targaryen and we will definitely consider supporting them now more than ever. Of course, an alliance would have to be sorted out formally, perhaps with a meeting face to face._

_My granddaughter, Margaery, is about the same age as your son (do not be surprised, She-Wolf, the Spider has his birds just as I have my own) so perhaps it would be better to wait a good few years before such a meeting, as I’m sure that she will be able to help in such an alliance._

_As a sign of such promises, please see the gift within. They are useless and long since dead; but symbolic none the less._

_Kind regards,_   
_Lady Olenna Tyrell,_   
_Queen of Thorns._

It made Lyanna only admire the older woman more when she saw that she had also signed ‘Queen of Thorns’, not rejecting the title put upon her by others but rather embracing it and using it as a ways of intimidation. It was clever, but then Olenna Tyrell was said to be a highly intelligent woman.

To have Highgarden as their ally, it would not just put them one step forward from where they were before; but a whole jump. The Tyrells had many a men, some fifty thousand swords, and were one of the Great Houses, and then if Ned was serious about the factor that he would back her…

And Dorne.

With those three Kingdoms fighting for her, she would only need one more in order to completely shift the favour in her own direction.

“Our boy might have his throne yet, my dragon,” Lyanna whispered, as if Rhaegar could hear her words as the plots and schemes that ran around her mind threatened to come to fruition in the following years.

Moving over to where she had placed the box upon the table, she opened it to gasp in shock when she saw six dragon eggs. Six!

They must have cost Olenna more than a pretty penny, but it was not as if Highgarden did not have money to spare, and clearly a Targaryen alliance was worth more to her than coin. That was something that Lyanna would most definitely bear in mind during negotiations.

As she looked at them each in turn, she could not help but marvel at their beauty: the first was as black as the midnight sea, with scarlet ripples and swirls making it still seem alive; the second was a crimson red, pulsing through it was an even deeper colour of red, like blood circulating within veins; the third was as yellow as the sun, with swirls of pure white and looking as if it was adorned by more than a thousand diamonds and other gems; the fourth was a mix of silver and gold, swirling and licking at one another like flames; the fifth was entirely bronze, glowing golden under the rays of sun that made their way through Lyanna’s study window; the last was startling violet with a crown of gold.

Looking at them, Lyanna remembered the stories of how Targaryen children would be presented with them on Dragonstone, and would even sleep with them in their cots. Even if these dragons would not live, even if they were already dead, it would still be a reminder of who they were for the children: they were the dragon, and so she quickly called for one of the four maids in their surface, keeping to a small household, and asked her to go and retrieve Rhaenys, Viserys, Maekar and Daenerys.

Soon, they all arrived in the room. Soaked near to the bone, Lyanna noted with half-amusement, half-annoyance as they had been wearing their best clothes at the time, but the smiles on their faces made all the destruction to their outfits worthwhile. Lyanna even had to laugh at Ser Gerold’s highly displeased face, whom was also soaked.

Slowly, she lowered the basket to the floor and allowed the children full view of them, who all gasped or, in the case of Daenerys and Maekar, clapped excitedly. Ser Gerold looked startled, staring at Lyanna with a questioning look that made Lyanna know that he wanted an explanation, she gave him a look that clearly said that she would tell him later.

“Each of you are to pick one,” Lyanna informed them with a smile, “though they are not alive, and will never hatch, I thought you might still like to have one; after all, they are the symbol of your house and not many children can claim that they have a dragon egg.

Viserys went to move forward, but Rhaenys held him back, and said, “Maekar should choose first, he will be King after all.”

“Maekar,” Lyanna prompted, pleased with the girl she thought of as a daughter’s kindness and honour in letting young Maekar go first.

The rightful King of Westeros moved forward upon unsteady legs, before picking the crimson one for himself. Lyanna watched him carefully, making sure the young child did not break it, before little Daenerys surged forward excitedly.

Lyanna ignored Viserys glaring at the little girl for going before him, aware that it was just childish jealousy, as the silver-gold haired Daenerys picked up the midnight coloured egg and excitedly moved away.

Viserys picked for himself the yellow egg that looked like it had upon it thousands of diamonds and other gems, and when Rhaenys came forward, she chose for herself the dragon egg that was coloured a mix of silver and gold, looking at the egg as if it was a child that had to be handled carefully and with love.

Silently, Lyanna closed the box, marvelling at their beauty once more. Only just as the lid shut, Rhaenys spoke up, “will you not choose one for yourself? You are a Targaryen after all.”

Lyanna’s heart swelled at the girl’s acceptance but knew that she could not, “dragons rarely obey anyone but those who descend from the Dragonlords, and I do not.”

“But Hugh Hammer did, Nettles did, Ulf the White did,” Rhaenys reasoned, a girl far too wise for her age, “so I don’t see why you cannot. And, as you said, they will never hatch anyway; so what is the harm?”

To appease the young girl, and, admittedly, because she truly did want to at least hold one within her arms, Lyanna took out the bronze coloured egg that was so otherworldly when put into the sunshine, and smiled at them all.

“You must promise to keep them safe,” Lyanna said, and a chorus of ‘I promise’ came back to her.

She would have to write to Ned soon, she knew, tell him of the dragons. All the children left, and it was only then that Lyanna saw a bump in the letter parchment.

“I want to know what Your Highness was in that letter and how you got those eggs,” Ser Gerold stated, before remembering himself and saying, “please.”

“And I will tell you, Ser Gerold,” Lyanna informed him, before beginning to explain Olenna Tyrell’s proposition and of her surprise to find the eggs; in her excitement, she had foolishly forgotten to send a letter asking how Olenna knew she was alive and if those little birds of hers could have told Varys.

\----

It was but two months before her next letter came, and Lyanna had been awaiting it. She had, of course, replied to Olenna’s letter informing her of how eager she would be for a meeting with her, and a thank you for the eggs. But it was not Olenna’s letter that came to her; but another one from Ned.

Ned gave her a letter when he could, normally four months a part in order to escape confusion or suspicion as to who he was sending letters to. It had decreased further when Ned had confided in her that Catelyn suspected that it was all to Ashara, especially after Ned had foolishly told Catelyn about the twins.

When Lyanna had called him a fool, her older brother had swiftly defended himself by pleading to the factor that he tried to be an honourable and honest man, and keeping such information from Catelyn was deceptive. But the Gods know that it would have hurt Catelyn a whole lot less if she had never known, and if Ned had not sacrificed her peace of mind for his own.

Taking the letter from one of the maids gratefully, she cracked open the seal to see that the letter only had a line. Furrowed brows, Lyanna read it quickly, first thinking that perhaps Ned was upset with her or something of the sorts.

_Lyanna, Robert knows where you are, he was informed by Northen Knights travelling back from Braavos. He sent men out three weeks ago but hadn’t told me until it was too late. Run._

Fear gripped at Lyanna strongly as she ran to Ashara. Ashara sat in her room with the two twins upon the bed beside her as she read, when she saw Lyanna’s panicked expression she was swiftly alert, “what’s going on, Lyanna?” Ashara near demanded.

“The children,” Lyanna cried out, running from the room to the nursery in a frantic search for them, “where are the children? They know where we are, Asha, and they will go straight for Maekar and the others!”

It was then that Lyanna paused, and Ashara, from where she had been taking the twins into her arms and scrambling off of the bed scowled too.

All the blood drained from Lyanna’s face, as she ever so quietly said to Ashara, “I smell fire.”

It was then, only after she had got out of her brief shock, she shouted at Ashara, “get out! Get out! Get the twins out of the house, and get Gerold, Willem and Arthur too, I’ll find the children!”

Any of Ashara’s protests were silenced as Lyanna ran down the stairs, to the far, far east side of the house to where she could feel the heat from the most, and soon see the flames.

“Maekar!” She screamed out desperately, the flames were growing and there was no path whatsoever into what had once been their dining room, “Rhaenys! Daenerys! Viserys!”

“Mama!” It was little Maekar’s voice who answered her from inside the room, the tone of his voice making it clear that he had been crying. Her boy, her darling son who had only uttered his first word not seven days before this one, “mama!”

Closing her eyes, tears dripping down her cheeks, Lyanna had no choice but to go into the flames if she wanted to save them; and she would do anything for them. Only, just as she was about to take the first steps in, strong ars=ms clamped around her waist, grabbing onto her and pulling her backwards.

“Let go of me!” She howled at the person who had her, clawing at him and kicking just as a wolf would do. She almost got out. Once. A well aimed kick had lodged itself within the man’s most tender parts but he had recovered too fast for the She-Wolf to get away, “let go!”

“It is too late, Princess,” she easily recognised the voice of Ser Arthur Dayne even during the trauma, “they're gone.”

A wolf’s mournful cry was all that they could hear. And none could help but close their eyes as they heard a girl’s frightened scream. Rhaenys’ scream.

Arthur and Gerold both had to work in unison to hold her back as all the windows in the house exploded under the force of the fire, and the roof broke down.

Her children were in there. They were in there. And she couldn’t do anything to help them.

Lyanna didn’t know how long they stood there, Eliana and Torrhen wailing in Ashara’s hold, Ser Arthur and Ser Gerold keeping her struggling form at bay. It must have been hours, it had to of been hours, for nightfall was dawning at the fire was dying.

And, eventually, the fire was no more; and they were left with the blackened remains of their house. It hadn’t been wood, there was not much wood in Braavos after all, but whatever material it was made of was ever so clearly flammable.

Soon after the fires had died, the Kingsguard let her go, and Lyanna allowed herself to crumple to the floor. She had took them in, Daenerys and Viserys, and she hadn’t been able to save them, Maekar was her son, and Rhaenys was as good as her daughter and yet she had been unable to save them either.

Because of her, she had lost those she cared for most and… Where was Ser Willem Darry?

She turned to Gerold, who was crying as well, she realised, his normally hard face red and puffy and she inquired, her voice hoarse from sobbing and shouting, “Darry?”

He shook his head, telling her all she needed to know about how the man’s bones were surely within the blackened remains of their house, hidden by a shroud of smoke.

It was then, as Lyanna was staring out into the wreckage that she saw figures coming out of the smoke. They did not have a hair upon their heads and yet she could easily recognise each of them. Viserys, Rhaenys, Maekar and Daenerys.

And with them, six dragons.


End file.
